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Seattle Chronicles
Part One: Seattle... November 16th, 2139 It was another rainy night in Seattle. The streets empty save for a beggar sitting on the sidewalk, seeminly oblivious to the torrential rain that was falling and a tall figure walking alone. An observant person would have noticed the long greasy hair that was partially hidden by a fancy fedora that matched his long brown trenchcoat. The man in the trenchcoat walked until he had reached a building with a glowing neon sign that said The Neckbeard hanging from it. He pulled out a piece of paper from his pocket and went back and forth from looking at the paper and the sign as if to make sure that he was at the correct location. He let out a long, drawn out sigh, the kind made by people who hate themselves and the life they were forced to live. The kind made by Seattle residents. After a brief moment of staring into space, he regained his composure and opened the door of The Neckbeard, a local tavern and hideout of The Trinity, a local gang of cyberpunks. Obviously, his presence was not noticed immidietly. The Neckbeard, being in Seattle, was a wretched hive of scum and villany, and was bustling with activity that night. People openly fornicating in darkened corners, lone drifters sitting alone, Trinity members laughing and drinking, all this over cheesy european electro music. Yep, this was the place he was told about. He walked up to the bartender, a cyborg with half of his head replaced by cybernetic parts and asked him if he could speak to you know who. It took time for the bartender to understand, but after a brief pause The man in the Trenchcoat was told to go up the stairs located behind the counter. As he walked up the stairs, he was briefly reminded of his childhood life. His father and mother yelling at each other, his mother beating the snot out of him after he broke the neighbour's Groundskeeper robot, his father drinking himself to a stupor then raping his sister... He was brought back to reality by the imposing figure blocking his path. Great', he thought. ''another cyborg What...is the color...of Seattle? asked the automaton Sanguine, my brother replied the man And without a word, the cyborg moved out of the way and the path was now clear. Morek, you fucking neckbearded piece of shit. Where the fuck were you, you fucking cunt? Ugh. This was the man that he was here to see. His boss, Lazriko Slobodan. More commonly known in Seattle as Big Papa Dirty. "Sorry about the delay, Boss. It's really rainy outside and I can't see shi-" "Shut the fuck up" Interupted the tall, obviously not fully organic man. "Do you have it?" He was reffering to the Celestial Microchip. The latest piece of cybernetic equipment developped by Pintco. Designed for military use only, this chip increased the wearers eyesight considerably more than the civilian model; The Eagleeye Microchip. "Yes, Boss" Morek said, as he pulled out a formal looking brown enveloppe from his trench coat and tossed it on Slobodan's oak desk. "Can I perhaps have my payment this time, Boss? I mean, I've done three jobs for you and you haven't payed for me one yet. Please, I really need to pay my rent. You'll have to pay it to me or else I'll stop-" "Or else what? You think you can come here and threaten the great Lazriko Slobodan? After all I've done for you? Get the fuck out of my sight, neckbeard. And don't expect to get any jobs from me in the future" Morek couldn't do anything, he was but a mere unmodified human and Slobodan was a cyborg equipped with smuggled military pieces. Even in his unmodified form, he would be no match for the towering slavic man. He let out another Seattle sigh and left The Neckbeard. It was still raining outside. Just another night in Seattle.